Stitches
by StarkBlack
Summary: Summer Commission. Set in the "Memories" universe a few months after "Go-To Guy". Law has pretty much figured out how Kidd works.


Another summer commission done. This was a request for some Kidd x Law in the "Memories" universe. I would say this fic takes place a few months after "Go-To Guy". Thank you Nada for the donation! Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Stitches<strong>

"What the fuck?" Law growled. "What the fuck is this? What the hell did you do?"

Kidd made some noncommittal sound in the back of his throat and tossed back another long swallow of the whisky Law had shoved into his hand. The man was a lot more manageable with a little alcohol in his system, that was for sure.

"I'm serious," Law said as he tore at bloody fabric, "I sent you for cigs. What the hell can possibly happen in ten minutes?"

"I could kill about thirty-eight people, depending on the situation."

Law glared up at his friend, his jaw clenching around words he could not believe he was saying.

"Tell me you did not just kill thirty-eight people."

Kidd might have cracked a smile, "No."

Returning to the bloody task at hand, Law sighed and examined the edges of a deep cut running from Kidd's elbow, to the middle of his forearm. The wound was jagged but clean, meaning it was probably from the broken glass of a bottle. Nothing major seemed to have been nicked, the blood flow was steady, not spurting, so they were probably in the clear. It was just a matter of sterilizing and stitching now.

"So what did happen?" Law asked after cutting away the shirt-sleeve and wiping the surrounding skin with antiseptic.

Kidd shrugged, "I walked in on some kind of hold up. At first I was pissed that someone was making such a petty move in our territory, but then I forgot about that when I saw they were out of Ho Hos."

"They were out of Ho Hos!?"

"I know, right? Anyway, I got distracted and was about to go get up in the clerk's face about what's important in a convenience store, but then some guy came at me with a bottle of Svedka."

"Aw, nasty. No wonder you smell like fucking bloody strawberries."

"I also ate a strawberry jelly donut on the way home."

"Oh my God…" Law could do nothing but shake his head as he threaded a needle and started to patch up the gash. He started from the end by the elbow, holding the flesh together with his left hand.

"So, did you kill the guy?"

"No, place had security cameras."

"Ah, well, that's good. And you got the cigarettes, so at least there's that."

"Oh shit," Kidd murmured softly, "I don't think I paid for those."

Law laughed. The good kind of laugh, the kind that comes from deep in your belly and fills every part of you before it escapes past your lips. Kidd might be a lot of things, but whatever they were, good or bad, it was worth it because he made Law laugh like that all the time.

"You're crazy."

Kidd's amber eyes finally turned from wherever he had been looking to fix on Law. The corner of his mouth turned up.

"You like it."

Law didn't look at him. In fact he continued with his work for several minutes before he could no longer contain his own smile and he nodded.

"Yeah… yeah I do."

He paused and met Kidd's eyes. The redhead was watching him with a calm sort of reverence and that look propelled Law forward. He kissed Kidd's lips softly, merely a taste. It probably wasn't a good idea to get riled up in the middle of minor surgery.

Kidd licked his lips as Law pulled away.

"Can I stay here tonight?"

"Yes," Law whispered around a grin.

Kidd pressed his nose up and under Law's chin, nuzzled at the junction between jaw and neck. Law felt the wetness of his partner's tongue tease the skin of his throat.

"Not now, I gotta close this up. I don't want blood all over my apartment."

Kidd's voice was muffled as he replied, "I'll clean it up."

Law tried to twist out of reach. "I'm serious. Come on, let me finish."

"Isn't that usually my line?"

Biting down on the laugh that built up again in his gut, Law pulled away, releasing the wound. He lifted his hand and gripped at Kidd's jaw, pulling the larger man away from him and forcibly tilting his head back. Blood smeared against Kidd's pale skin as his shivered in Law's powerful grip.

Law straightened and looked directly into amber eyes that were bright with arousal. He lifted one bloody finger and slid it over Kidd's lips and into his mouth. He felt Kidd's tongue lap at it like a hungry dog waiting to be told what to do, waiting to please.

Law lowered his voice and breathed across pale skin.

"I said… not now…"

Kidd shuddered and his eyes slid shut. He stayed still as Law released him and went back to his work.

Kidd was a lot of things, and most of them were unpredictable, but when he was like this, when Law spoke to him like that, Kidd showed just how disciplined he could be.

When he was finished, Law bandaged Kidd's arm and packed up his kit. He then washed his hands, and returned to where Kidd was still sitting, waiting exactly as he had been told.

"Such a good dog…" Law said softly, and climbed up into Kidd's lap, legs settling on either side.

He ran his tongue over the blood smeared across a pale chin. The taste was mild, coppery—very similar to Kidd's natural taste. It probably should have bothered him, the fact that Kidd tasted like blood on the regular, but it didn't. There really wasn't anything about Kidd that Law didn't like.

Leaning in close, Law whispered across thin lips, "Do you deserve a reward?"

Handcuffs were something Kidd enjoyed almost as much as killing people. Funny, since he had been a mobster almost his entire life, one would think handcuffs were something he would try and avoid. But then again, Kidd had never been caught, never been detained, not even so much as a night in the drunk tank. So Law had chalked the fetish up to a sort of "fuck you" to all the law enforcement officers that had failed to catch him.

This in itself gave Law a very personal and private pleasure. Law did not consider himself truly law enforcement anymore, but the irony was there. Oh, it was fucking there.

The redhead's arms strained and his back bowed, sweat beaded off his pale skin as the gleaming metal of the cuffs clanged against the dark, brushed metal of the headboard. He spat dirty curses mingled with the highest of praises as Law rode him hard enough to leave bruises. The filthy things that tumbled from Kidd's mouth drove Law to go harder, faster, to rake bloody lines down a long torso and bite into soft lips as orgasm crashed into them both so hard they almost fell apart.

They lay together for some time after, blood and sweat still sticky on their bodies in the humid, evening air. Summers were hot, and even with the balcony door open and the air conditioner on, it was still stifling.

"M'arm's asleep," Kidd mumbled into Law's hair.

Law stirred, "Sorry…" he retrieved the key from the night stand and unlocked his partner's wrists. Almost immediately, he was thrown onto his back and Kidd's warm lips were on his jaw, his throat. Large hands covered his body, massaging into sore muscles. He was spent, but he let Kidd have his way with him. How could he not? He lay there, pliant, running his hands over sweaty skin and pulling gently through wild hair as Kidd took him again, slow, but just shy of violent.

He loved these moments, these rare times when Kidd was so raw and open, sometimes even emotional. Law knew he was the only one who had ever seen Kidd like this. This was his, and his alone.

"Can't get enough of me…" Law whispered when they lay next to each other sometime later.

Kidd made another one of his noncommittal sounds into the pillow and ran his palm over Law's hip.

It wasn't a denial, not even close, so Law took it as a conformation and slid in close. He kissed the skin just above Kidd's eyebrow and settled down and into sleep.

END


End file.
